She tapped the (probably fake) silver of her many rings against the (probably fake) reclaimed-wood bar. Her voice as tinny and obnoxious as the Bon Iver playing through the speakers above her head.
"What do you mean you're out of Modelo?" she asked the bartender, leaving him scratching his beanie. Before he could attempt an answer, a barback in a plain white T-shirt slinked in with a pushcart full of the cheap Mexican lager. She squealed with delight and returned to her friends, can in hand
Five years ago, no one in this bar would have given a damn if there was no Modelo. Shit, no one would have probably cared two years ago. Or maybe even six months ago. But the tides have turned. After nearly a decade of elevated, ironic embrace, millennials and cusp Gen X-ers alike have shifted their attention away from their beloved PBR. Even CNN/Money has declared it no longer "hot," the branding equivalent of your Great Aunt Fern calling your haircut lame AF.